Mile-A-Minute

It was a morning so average it would give you nightmares. There was nothing notable about the weather, no major events that had taken place the night before. I wish I could say it was a normal nothing, like four ice cubes in your drink instead of five, or a missing pickle on your burger, but it wasn’t. She looked serious, grave almost, but she was studying, it was normal. However, me being the worrywart I always am, I asked if everything was okay.

She said it wasn’t.

I would now like to attribute the following events to my lack of communication, for the analysis within my mind was accredited only to the paralyzation of my mouth. When a situation arises, though it may be rational to focus on a single outcome, I have trouble ignoring the dozens of possible scenarios that could potentially occur, so I asked what was wrong. She was studying, she said we would talk about it later. I couldn’t wait until later. I asked again.

“Not now.” she said.

The illusions started to become realities as I imagined what life would bring before it arrived. Logically, it would make sense to focus on the best possible outcomes so that I could work to achieve them, but I began to fixate on the worst possibilities, I couldn’t wait, I had to know. Was everything okay? What was wrong? What’s going on? A million questions asked in a single phrase as I utter “...are you sure?”

She sighs. “Walk me to class.”

Oh no. I wanted to talk, I’m getting what I wanted, this is good, but what if it’s not what I want to hear? But she asked me to walk her over, this should be good, she asked me to go, me specifically. What if it’s so there aren’t any witnesses. What if it’s serious, she didn’t want to talk, I pushed her, God, I pushed her into this race and didn’t even let her tie her shoes, what’s wrong with me, I’m awful. I’m trying to snap out of it, but my mind is ensnared. After wandering time and time again, it is unable to escape from this moment, and it is determined to bring the rest of me down with it. Emotions overwhelm me and I let out but the shadow of a whimper, my mind attempting to make the rest of my body feel as it does; my palms sweat, my heart beats faster, my legs shake, my chest aches.

We stop.

We’ve reached her class and we stand outside the door, staring at each other, my vision getting blurry as I try to muster the courage to say something, anything. I breathe. What should be a momentary inhalation of air followed by a coherent sentence winds up as nothing more than retracted thoughts, illustrated by an absent-mindedly opened mouth, ready for catching flies, and a punctuating finger, slowly reeling back. Concerns and beliefs once thought of as important leave me gasping for air, as if I am no longer worthy of voicing them. I do not stay quiet out of fear or meekness. I do not stay quiet due to lack of interest. My unhinged jaw is not swarming with flies, but with a profusion of thoughts and scenarios, leading my speech to be held captive by an overactive imagination. I gulp, I breathe, I ask “What’s wrong?”

She sighs, “This test has me really worried… what if I don’t do well?”

I blink and chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll do great,” I say, “it’s all in your head.”